


It Need Not Be Said

by MyOwnSuperintendent



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Cat X Ned Week, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-03
Updated: 2014-09-03
Packaged: 2018-02-16 00:26:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2249088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MyOwnSuperintendent/pseuds/MyOwnSuperintendent
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When she learns that she is carrying their second child, Catelyn begins to think about her feelings for her husband.  Written for Day Three of Cat x Ned Week on tumblr, which called for works focusing on the period between Catelyn's arrival at Winterfell and the Greyjoy Rebellion.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It Need Not Be Said

**Author's Note:**

> I don't own A Song of Ice and Fire or anything related to it. Hope you enjoy!

She had suspected for some days, and now she was certain. Catelyn smiled, placing her hands over her belly and almost laughing at herself for doing so. It was still much too early to feel the babe growing inside her, let alone moving. Yet she knew that it was there. They were going to have a second child.

Would they have another boy, she wondered? She would like that. One of _her_ sons to play with Robb, to join him in running about the yards of Winterfell in his toddling way, in watching the men-at-arms train. She’d come to dislike seeing him playing with Jon more and more—Jon who was Ned’s but who wasn’t hers. Her feelings about that would never grow easier, she suspected. She was over the shock now, of course, the first anger and shame at what Ned had done, and she’d done the best she could to put that dreadful night when Ned had shouted at her out of her mind. But there was still the worry about what the bastard’s presence meant for her own son and, more and more these days, the knowledge that however close she and Ned became, this was something that they would never share. But if she could at least give him another son…

She would like to have a daughter too, though. Ned would teach and guide Robb as he grew older, she knew, but a girl would be for her to teach. She felt that she could do it well, that she could help her daughter prepare for the day when she herself became the lady of a house. Remembering her own mother’s death in childbed, she prayed that such a day would not come for her daughter too soon.

As long as she and the babe were both safe and well after the birth, she would be happy with either a son or a daughter, she decided, beginning to wonder whom the child would look like. Robb favored her; would this next one look like Ned? A part of her hoped for that, thinking again of the bastard. Or a bit of this and that, perhaps: her hair falling around Ned’s ears, Ned’s eyes above her nose. That thought made her smile. Ned had been gone, a virtual stranger to her, while she carried and bore Robb, but he would be here for this one; it would seem suitable to have a child that had features of each of them, of both of them, a child that had come from their love…

Catelyn caught herself short. What had she just been thinking? Was it true? Did she love him? The word had simply crept into her thoughts…How did one know when one loved a man?

She remembered talking about such things with Lysa, back at Riverrun, during the weeks leading up to their marriages. “They say that you will come to love your husband in time,” Lysa had said. “Do you think it’s true? Do you, Cat?”

She hadn’t been sure herself, but there had been only one right answer under the circumstances, when Lysa was looking at her with a face more scared than hopeful. “It must be.”

“How do you think you know?” Lysa had continued.

This question had seemed easier. “It must just come to you.”

The question had seemed easier then, but it seemed much more difficult now. “It must just come to you”—well, it had come to her, certainly, but did that mean that it was true? How _did_ you know when you loved someone in that way? She had never loved before, after all; she’d been pleased and excited by Brandon, eager to be his wife, but she’d known that it wasn’t yet love, and it hadn’t felt anything like this.  What did she feel for Ned?

Well, he made her happy, she thought; that was certainly true. If she wasn’t yet certain that she loved _him_ , she knew that there were things she loved about him. There were the times when he took her arm to escort her and they walked through the grounds of Winterfell together, the grounds where a sept now stood. There were the quiet evenings they spent in her chambers. At first, he’d merely come to share her bed, but now they often talked for a while—not that Ned was much of a talker. He always listened to her attentively, though, whether they were discussing the business of the castle or less practical matters. She’d talked to him about her childhood at Riverrun; she hadn’t said much at first, for she hadn’t wanted him to think she was unhappy at Winterfell, but he’d always seemed interested and not at all offended, and she’d found that she enjoyed telling him more about herself. She liked sharing things with him, that was what it was, and she liked the occasions when he shared things with her too—the glimpses of his own youth that she’d begun to get. Even when they didn’t talk about themselves, she felt as though they were sharing more as time went on. She could say that she understood him now in a way that certainly hadn’t been the case even a few months ago. She felt safe and comfortable with him; after that horrible night, it seemed that he had tried even harder to treat her gently, and she was glad of that. On a decidedly earthier note, she had come to very much enjoy his touch, to look eagerly towards having him join her in her bed in the evenings. And she…she was very, very happy that he was her husband, after all, as unexpected as their marriage had been. Whomever she’d married, she would have done her best to make things good between them, of course, but she didn’t know that it would have felt as natural—as much like something she desired with her whole being—with other men as with Ned…

She loved him.

She loved him, and she wanted to tell him. The idea made her nervous in some ways—when she thought of the bastard’s mother, the one who Ned wouldn’t speak about—but the nerves weren’t as strong as her desire to tell him. When she thought of all the things that had made her love him, of the interested way he always listened to her and of the sept he’d had built just for her and of the way he looked at her when they lay in bed together, she couldn’t help but hope…And he certainly wouldn’t be cruel about it, whatever he felt. And he was her husband.

He ought to know.

Catelyn had been so lost in her thoughts that she hadn’t heard the knock, and she was surprised when she saw Ned peeking around the door of her chambers, where she sat on the bed, hands still folded over her belly. She smiled at him, and he smiled back, coming in and taking a seat beside her. “Cat,” he said.

“Ned,” she said. “Ned, there’s something I have to tell you.”

“Tell me, then,” he said.

She meant to tell him how she felt, wanted to with him smiling at her like that, but her worries about what he’d do pushed themselves to the fore. She knew that he wouldn’t be cruel, but would he tell her he felt the same? Or would he look kind and say nothing? That would be hard to bear. Maybe she would wait, she decided; there was something else that she could tell him. “I’m carrying another child,” she said.

Ned’s smile grew then. “Oh, Catelyn,” he said, brushing her hair back from her face and kissing her gently. “Are you certain?”

She nodded. “I’m certain.”

“Cat, that’s wonderful.” His hand moved to join hers on her belly. “Do you think we shall have a boy or a girl?”

“I don’t know,” she said. “I am sure you would like to have another son.”

“Yes, another son would be a fine thing,” said Ned, “but so would a daughter, my lady.” He ran his hand through her hair again. “A daughter who is lovely like her mother.”

Catelyn felt a flush of joy at his words. “I was thinking that I would like to have a babe who looks like you,” she said. “Or perhaps one who looks like both of us.”

“One who looks like both of us,” Ned repeated. “Yes, Cat, I think I would like that very much too.” His voice sounded so sweet to her; she settled against him, into the crook of his arm, and knew that the moment was now.

“There’s something else I have to tell you,” she said, twisting to face him. She wanted to be able to look at him while she said it. And there he was, looking back at her and still smiling, and she would not be nervous. “Ned, I love you.”

He was not a wild man, her Ned, but he grasped her tightly then and pulled her into another kiss, much stronger than the one he’d given her when she’d told him of the babe, his lips warm against her own, his hands caressing her. When he finally released her, they smiled at each other again. She’d thought of hearing words, of having Ned tell her that he shared her feelings. But after that kiss, Catelyn didn’t think that he needed to say anything.


End file.
